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snopes.com: Joshua Bell Plays in Subway
Monday, August 30, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
How to change?
Attended a meeting at MCYS yesterday over the case of a physically abused client. 12 people were involved. Other than school counsellors and MCYS social worker and her 2 seniors, other participants included doctor from KK, police officer,MOE psychologist, representatives from various student care and child care centres where the victim and his siblings are attending, plus people from organisations I didn't quite register. The Objective is to review whether the measures recommended by the MCYS social worker is comprehensive to avoid further incidents of abuse.
Initially I was rather impressed and thought to myself I have underestimated the comprehensive network of social support provided by the government. However I cannot help but wonder at the amount of man hours and resources spent on the case. This impression is further validated when my colleague, the school counsellor remarked that the recommended measures are quite standard and such meetings are more of a formality. I have a feeling it is to establish a joint responsibility.
The so called victim is my client and was referred for counselling by the form teacher for behavioural problems in class, mainly not handing in his work. Whoa! Every time I go to fetch the student for the session, the teacher would break out into an endless lament of him not doing his work, disturbing classes etc. The teacher's relentless complaint and phone calls have made the mother of the child very stressed and frustrated. This despite the teacher being aware that the child's mother suffers from depression and has once attempted suicide. To be honest, I have never really made it my main focus to tackle his behavioural problems in class. I was targeting the root of his attention seeking behaviour which I perceived as low self esteem. As I worked with him I noticed a lot of self despise and I tried very hard to get him to see his strength and to believe in himself. Earlier on in the year, the form teacher did make a remark that he behaved a bit better but went on to add "but he thinks one good behaviour justifies another bad behaviour". The vital difference in attitude between a teacher and school counsellor lies in the level of expectation. Whilst a counsellor is pleased with a small improvement as a first step towards change, the teacher expects almost a normal behaviour in line with the rest of the class overnite. I later learnt that teachers can be quite pent up over his/her students' work because the students' work is reviewed by a supervisor regularly. Maybe it forms part of the teachers' KPI.
The form teacher's complaints and an incident of his son telling a lie drove the mother frenzy and she beat him up so badly that the bruises were noticeable, hence leading to police investigation, hospitalisation for observation etc etc etc. You will not believe it. After the whole commotion and the boy's leave of 2 weeks in hospital, the first thing the teacher told me when he resumed school was "he has not done his worksheet"!!!
At yesterday's meeting, the chairperson asked me about any change in his behaviour with counselling. I just replied "there is not much progress". You can't say I feel good saying that but I certainly didn't feel lousy too. Perhaps it was because in the morning I had a very uplifting conversation with the father of another client whose mother passed away last year. I know I have helped in some cases and I couldn't do much in others.
Sigh....but I guess I can't just leave it at that. For the earlier case I really need to engage the teacher for a more effective management; and mind you, adults are just as difficult if not more difficult to change.
Initially I was rather impressed and thought to myself I have underestimated the comprehensive network of social support provided by the government. However I cannot help but wonder at the amount of man hours and resources spent on the case. This impression is further validated when my colleague, the school counsellor remarked that the recommended measures are quite standard and such meetings are more of a formality. I have a feeling it is to establish a joint responsibility.
The so called victim is my client and was referred for counselling by the form teacher for behavioural problems in class, mainly not handing in his work. Whoa! Every time I go to fetch the student for the session, the teacher would break out into an endless lament of him not doing his work, disturbing classes etc. The teacher's relentless complaint and phone calls have made the mother of the child very stressed and frustrated. This despite the teacher being aware that the child's mother suffers from depression and has once attempted suicide. To be honest, I have never really made it my main focus to tackle his behavioural problems in class. I was targeting the root of his attention seeking behaviour which I perceived as low self esteem. As I worked with him I noticed a lot of self despise and I tried very hard to get him to see his strength and to believe in himself. Earlier on in the year, the form teacher did make a remark that he behaved a bit better but went on to add "but he thinks one good behaviour justifies another bad behaviour". The vital difference in attitude between a teacher and school counsellor lies in the level of expectation. Whilst a counsellor is pleased with a small improvement as a first step towards change, the teacher expects almost a normal behaviour in line with the rest of the class overnite. I later learnt that teachers can be quite pent up over his/her students' work because the students' work is reviewed by a supervisor regularly. Maybe it forms part of the teachers' KPI.
The form teacher's complaints and an incident of his son telling a lie drove the mother frenzy and she beat him up so badly that the bruises were noticeable, hence leading to police investigation, hospitalisation for observation etc etc etc. You will not believe it. After the whole commotion and the boy's leave of 2 weeks in hospital, the first thing the teacher told me when he resumed school was "he has not done his worksheet"!!!
At yesterday's meeting, the chairperson asked me about any change in his behaviour with counselling. I just replied "there is not much progress". You can't say I feel good saying that but I certainly didn't feel lousy too. Perhaps it was because in the morning I had a very uplifting conversation with the father of another client whose mother passed away last year. I know I have helped in some cases and I couldn't do much in others.
Sigh....but I guess I can't just leave it at that. For the earlier case I really need to engage the teacher for a more effective management; and mind you, adults are just as difficult if not more difficult to change.
Friday, August 20, 2010
"That's It" or "Is that it?"
Attending a funeral and another wake on the same day make me feel kind of spaced out. If you have ever witnessed the procedure leading to the cremation at the Mandai Crematorium, you can not but feel that the last leg at the viewing gallery is really quite poignant. (I wonder whether it was designed that way with that purpose in mind. Please don't read on if you feel moody or think it morbid). See, from the viewing gallery you wait in silence looking down at quite a large room with inlaid tracks. The casket then emerges from below the gallery and one sees it moves slowly along the track vertically across the room towards an opened door at the opposite side of the room before it is out of sight and the door closes . It really brings out "the final journey" feeling.
He was my mother's younger brother, the eldest of 3 sons. My earliest memories of my life were images of my maternal grandmother's house where this uncle worked and lived. My family moved from Singapore to KL when I was 2 and I was left in the care of my grandmother in Singapore, until I was bigger and needed less care and attention. Both my grandmother and uncle doted on me. I remembered his workplace that overlooked an airwell on the second floor of a shophouse. I remembered how he would berate my grandmother's negligence if he ever noticed a slight bruise on me. I could remember his anxiety on one of my visits to a clinic in the hospital although I have forgotten what ailed me.
He was a tailor and an educated one. When young he attended an English School in the morning and a Chinese school in the afternoon. My grandfather hired a rickshaw to fetch him around. My grandfather also bought a gramophone and introduced western classical music to the children which this uncle appreciated deeply. The early privileged life of my mother's family came to an abrupt end when my grandfather passed away suddenly and the dire family circumstances were further aggravated by the Japanese occupation. This uncle then apprenticed as a tailor, a job which seemed quite appropriate for him as he was extremely reserved and hated company. In those days a tailor could work at home and was paid on a piece rate by the tailor shops. Had he been born later he would have been labelled as being an Asperger for he had severly impaired social skills. In those days matchmaking was common and there were many interested women as he was deemed quite cultured for a tailor. He read both the Chinese and English newspapers, kept himself abreast of world news, listened to Western classical music and interested himself in the biographies of the composers as well as the latest audio systems and technology. He remained a bachelor and when he became too old to sew he worked at various jobs as a garderner and security guard. In his twilight years he felt bitter over what he deemed as a lack of personal accomplishment. He lost interest in his hobby and stopped reading. His hi-fi set was left untouched and the records and tapes became mouldy. I am sure he would have been happier if he had continued engaging his passion for music and was less concerned with his status in society. In fact, he was more informed and knowlegeable than many a better educated person.
I bought a bouquet of white orchids and the undertakers placed it on top of the casket. As the casket with the bouquet moved across the room I thought about how we touched each other's life some 50 odd years ago. As he bade his leave I wished for him a peaceful after life. Whilst the doors closed upon us, I have a feeling that straddled between "That's it" and "Is that it?" That is what I meant when I said I am spaced out.
He was my mother's younger brother, the eldest of 3 sons. My earliest memories of my life were images of my maternal grandmother's house where this uncle worked and lived. My family moved from Singapore to KL when I was 2 and I was left in the care of my grandmother in Singapore, until I was bigger and needed less care and attention. Both my grandmother and uncle doted on me. I remembered his workplace that overlooked an airwell on the second floor of a shophouse. I remembered how he would berate my grandmother's negligence if he ever noticed a slight bruise on me. I could remember his anxiety on one of my visits to a clinic in the hospital although I have forgotten what ailed me.
He was a tailor and an educated one. When young he attended an English School in the morning and a Chinese school in the afternoon. My grandfather hired a rickshaw to fetch him around. My grandfather also bought a gramophone and introduced western classical music to the children which this uncle appreciated deeply. The early privileged life of my mother's family came to an abrupt end when my grandfather passed away suddenly and the dire family circumstances were further aggravated by the Japanese occupation. This uncle then apprenticed as a tailor, a job which seemed quite appropriate for him as he was extremely reserved and hated company. In those days a tailor could work at home and was paid on a piece rate by the tailor shops. Had he been born later he would have been labelled as being an Asperger for he had severly impaired social skills. In those days matchmaking was common and there were many interested women as he was deemed quite cultured for a tailor. He read both the Chinese and English newspapers, kept himself abreast of world news, listened to Western classical music and interested himself in the biographies of the composers as well as the latest audio systems and technology. He remained a bachelor and when he became too old to sew he worked at various jobs as a garderner and security guard. In his twilight years he felt bitter over what he deemed as a lack of personal accomplishment. He lost interest in his hobby and stopped reading. His hi-fi set was left untouched and the records and tapes became mouldy. I am sure he would have been happier if he had continued engaging his passion for music and was less concerned with his status in society. In fact, he was more informed and knowlegeable than many a better educated person.
I bought a bouquet of white orchids and the undertakers placed it on top of the casket. As the casket with the bouquet moved across the room I thought about how we touched each other's life some 50 odd years ago. As he bade his leave I wished for him a peaceful after life. Whilst the doors closed upon us, I have a feeling that straddled between "That's it" and "Is that it?" That is what I meant when I said I am spaced out.
Monday, August 16, 2010
First Family Parenting
I read with a little amusement Lee Wei Ling's article "Letting go of old prejudices", not about its content but more on some glimpses of her behaviour. In the article she described how in 1995 she had a minor accident whereby she suffered a deep cut on her shin whilst working out in her hotel room in Sydney. She headed out on foot for the first aid centre at the venue where she was attending a convention which was 1.5km away. The guy in charge however directed her to the nearest hospital despite her jeans and socks being soaked with blood. Without finding more about the distance of the hospital, she stalked off. After repeatedly asking strangers about the direction of the hospital she finally found it after walking for 2 hour 15 min and arrived "not a moment too soon" as she described it. Only then did she realise she had no identity documents, cash nor credit cards with her. Fortunately the hospital staff were very kind and went all out to assist her which prompted her recalling the incident and writing this article.
Now I thought to myself, if my children has a similar encounter I would be reprimanding them for their carelessness or foolishness for rushing off without identity document and money, not finding out more about the distance and not getting help from the hotel reception etc etc. I am actually quite amused that even the all powerful MM and his wife can not do much about her rash behaviour. In fact from many of her articles, one can deduce she is quite a risk taker, having encountered and came out of quite a few dangerous situations . I also gathered that her parents still worry about her ability to take care of herself.
I know it is sadistic comfort but it does normalise our limits as a parent in moulding our children's character and behaviour. It somehow also makes this FIRST family seems very real. I think every family does have its own challenges bringing up children :)
Now I thought to myself, if my children has a similar encounter I would be reprimanding them for their carelessness or foolishness for rushing off without identity document and money, not finding out more about the distance and not getting help from the hotel reception etc etc. I am actually quite amused that even the all powerful MM and his wife can not do much about her rash behaviour. In fact from many of her articles, one can deduce she is quite a risk taker, having encountered and came out of quite a few dangerous situations . I also gathered that her parents still worry about her ability to take care of herself.
I know it is sadistic comfort but it does normalise our limits as a parent in moulding our children's character and behaviour. It somehow also makes this FIRST family seems very real. I think every family does have its own challenges bringing up children :)
Monday, August 9, 2010
The Whiner on National Day
Today is National Day and I shall be honest. I don't feel a thing beyond a small desire to go downtown this evening to watch the fireworks. Nothing can ever douse my fascination for fireworks; not even after experiencing the full impact at Athens on New Year's eve with the firework dust dropping into my very eyes. Now I forget who gave me all the opportunities that I can earn enough not only to feel secure but to be able to enjoy travelling to various parts of the world.
Hai! Yes I admit I am not a grateful person and much worse a great whiner too. Following the normal course of a whiner, I tried this morning to find an excuse for my lack of patriotism. Well I find comfort in the findings of a survey in Singapore that shows the elites are the least loyal in the country. Not to say I consider myself an elite but well there must be a external reason for this. Then I thought perhaps it is because I spent the best part of my childhood and early adolescence in KL. The school that shaped me was in KL and my alma mater focused on holistic education and was renowned for instilling the love of literature into its students. You may sense the alienation I felt when I stepped foot into Singapore with its very practical approach of turning out technocrats, eg. accountants and engineers in abundance.
Still becoming a technocrat relieved me from loads of worries about earning a living and helped build a reserve sufficient not only to feel secured but also allowed some small luxuries. But somehow, the heart still does not feel grateful, hai...
And then I would pursue the train of thought about Singapore being too utilitarian bla bla bla turning us into unfeeling robots bla bla bla...hence the voidness bla bla bla...
I have mentioned in previous blogs that I entertained thoughts of scaling down in Singapore and finding a second home somewhere else. I think that will somehow enrich my life. The only thing that holds me back is how to replicate in a foreign land the joy that I am experiencing now, engaging with our local children.
Perhaps there is still something in this land that tugs at my heart, the love for the little sons and daughters of its people.
Hai! Yes I admit I am not a grateful person and much worse a great whiner too. Following the normal course of a whiner, I tried this morning to find an excuse for my lack of patriotism. Well I find comfort in the findings of a survey in Singapore that shows the elites are the least loyal in the country. Not to say I consider myself an elite but well there must be a external reason for this. Then I thought perhaps it is because I spent the best part of my childhood and early adolescence in KL. The school that shaped me was in KL and my alma mater focused on holistic education and was renowned for instilling the love of literature into its students. You may sense the alienation I felt when I stepped foot into Singapore with its very practical approach of turning out technocrats, eg. accountants and engineers in abundance.
Still becoming a technocrat relieved me from loads of worries about earning a living and helped build a reserve sufficient not only to feel secured but also allowed some small luxuries. But somehow, the heart still does not feel grateful, hai...
And then I would pursue the train of thought about Singapore being too utilitarian bla bla bla turning us into unfeeling robots bla bla bla...hence the voidness bla bla bla...
I have mentioned in previous blogs that I entertained thoughts of scaling down in Singapore and finding a second home somewhere else. I think that will somehow enrich my life. The only thing that holds me back is how to replicate in a foreign land the joy that I am experiencing now, engaging with our local children.
Perhaps there is still something in this land that tugs at my heart, the love for the little sons and daughters of its people.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
We Need the time to read Novels
"If you play golf, chess, scrabble, start reading novels etc....you are going down" so says MM.
I don't know about playing golf, but I do know that if you don't read more novels when you are younger you will find never get to read much when you are older. If you think that you can reserve evening time for reading, you can forget it. After a couple of pages you will be trying hard to grasp what you are reading before drifting on to slumberland. In fact the best time to read is when your mind is fully alert ie. in the morning and after an afternoon nap. So if you don't intend to retire at all you will never get to enjoy reading; unless of course you are lucky enough to have a job that allows you to read during office hours.
Coming back to MM's comments advocating that we do not retire, I feel we really have to be very careful not to promote an utilitarian culture where people are valued only if they are deemed to be still productive. My fear is the psychological impact it may have on older folks who are incapable of finding work or who are limited by health and agility. Many may end up feeling useless and a burden to family and society.
In Jiu Zhai Gou, we were told by the tourist guide that old folks move to stay at the temples to pursue Buddhist studies. There is meaning and purpose in every stage in our lives, the final phase being one of consolidation and the discovery of the true "I". Let us not deprive ourselves of it.
I don't know about playing golf, but I do know that if you don't read more novels when you are younger you will find never get to read much when you are older. If you think that you can reserve evening time for reading, you can forget it. After a couple of pages you will be trying hard to grasp what you are reading before drifting on to slumberland. In fact the best time to read is when your mind is fully alert ie. in the morning and after an afternoon nap. So if you don't intend to retire at all you will never get to enjoy reading; unless of course you are lucky enough to have a job that allows you to read during office hours.
Coming back to MM's comments advocating that we do not retire, I feel we really have to be very careful not to promote an utilitarian culture where people are valued only if they are deemed to be still productive. My fear is the psychological impact it may have on older folks who are incapable of finding work or who are limited by health and agility. Many may end up feeling useless and a burden to family and society.
In Jiu Zhai Gou, we were told by the tourist guide that old folks move to stay at the temples to pursue Buddhist studies. There is meaning and purpose in every stage in our lives, the final phase being one of consolidation and the discovery of the true "I". Let us not deprive ourselves of it.
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